


Too Much Rope

by TeyrianTimelord



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV), bondlock - Fandom
Genre: Bond and Molly are cousins, Bond is a flirt, Family Drama, Gen, Innuendo, Q is a Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 15:19:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2737502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeyrianTimelord/pseuds/TeyrianTimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q learns just how much of a mistake he made by sleeping with both Bond and 007's cousin (and being in love with her just makes it even worse).</p><p>Can stand alone or be a sequel to "Complicated."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Much Rope

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the comments I got on "Complicated" I had to go for a companion piece. I'm not really happy with what direction it took, but hey, blame the muses, not me. Enjoy and review!

Q winced as he heard the sound of a too-close-for-comfort gunshot through his earpiece. He rolled his shoulders to make it look like it hadn’t really startled him. Even second hand, fieldwork made his nerves fry like a high schooler’s laptop after downloading too many pirated movies. As if he wasn’t on edge enough. 

“I trust you’re still alive?” he inquired casually, double checking Bond’s vitals on his second screen.

“Barely, but thanks for asking,” the operative growled back. “Target apprehended. Deploy extraction team.” 

“Done. See you in 16 hours. That Kimber better be back on my desk in one piece or I swear I’ll have you jumping through alleys for a month.”

Just as Q was about to shut down the Bluetooth, he caught the faint whisper, “Is that the only thing you want on your desk when I get back?”

Lip twitching, he ripped out the earpiece and quickly fumbled to turn off the radio, frantically looking around to make sure no one overheard or was staring at the red flush in his cheeks. One bloody time and 007 turns into an insufferable flirt. Absolutely incorrigible. And that was the last thing he wanted to have on his mind right now, especially since he was already running late to pick up Molly for dinner. It was the one year anniversary of their “first date” and even though they still hadn’t really taken a stand on whether or not they were really a couple, in a gesture of sentiment he had bugged Mycroft into reserving a nice table at The Square (and a room at the Savoy if it came to that) to celebrate the occasion. Though it was hardly appropriate to take her out to such a suave place in his work clothes, the last thing he wanted was to miss the reservation. He did not have time to change or think about Bond. 

Molly looked lovely, as always, and thankfully did not criticize his cardigan. Despite his best intentions to keep up a conversation, Q found himself drifting off, caught up in the way she curled a lock of hair around her finger or took careful sips of her wine so that her lipstick wouldn’t smear. It was all those little things she did that stopped the codes and the numbers from reeling through his brain and put his mind at rest, just getting lost in the moment. If that wasn’t love, he wasn’t quite sure what was. That was reason enough to be loyal, wasn’t it?

“Earth to Q,” Molly whispered, gently nudging his foot under the table with her own and bringing him back into the present. “You’ve been staring at nothing for a good five minutes now.”

“No, I was staring at you,” he replied, reaching for her hand.

Molly pretended to wipe the corners of her mouth with the white napkin from her lap, but he could tell that it was just to hide the tint of color that encircled her lips whenever he said something deliberately affectionate or doting. However, she didn’t object when he ran his thumb over the top of her hand, lingering on the start of each proximal. Enough was enough. It was one night with Bond, just a short hype, nothing more. No matter how much he flirted or teased, there was nothing real in it. He took a deep breath.

“Not that I don’t enjoy all of this,” he started, gesturing to the whole room. “Molly, I want to know that we aren’t just playing a game. That there’s more to us than just dinner and watching telly. I don’t need much, but can we just-“

Before he could finish, she leaned across the table and planted a warm, slow kiss right on his lips. At first Q just froze, unsure of what he was supposed to do, but like instinct his hand found itself at the nape of her neck.

“I love you, Sherrinford Holmes,” she said under her breath so no one else in the room could hear. “Is that enough?”

Q just nodded, still a little stunned by the surprise as she settled back in to her seat. It was not in Molly’s nature to be so forward nor in his to be on the receiving side of romantic gestures. He was just about to call over the dessert menu when every hair on the back of his neck stood on edge as he saw Molly’s face light up and she gave a little wave behind him. Only four people could elicit that kind of immediate reaction from her: Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson, John Watson. Or James Bond. By no means was Q the religious type, but he silently begged any deity that might be listening to please let it be anyone but Bond. Please let it be Sherlock here to torment me, he prayed. Please God, please! 

“You look absolutely radiant, ma chere soeur,” a painfully familiar voice said from just out of sight. 

Molly instantly jumped up from the table and wrapped her arms around James’ neck, grinning from ear to ear in delight. Q groaned and dropped his head into his hands. Everything was going swimmingly. What on earth could he have done to deserve this? Actually, that was a stupid question. He knew exactly what he had done. 

“I thought you weren’t home until tomorrow. What are you doing here?” she asked bubbly as her cousin signaled for a waiter to bring around another chair. 

“Yes, James, what are you doing here?” Q chimed in sardonically, lathering his tone with as much annoyance as could be managed.

“My flight was early so I figured I would come by to see the only woman in the world who matters,” he answered sweetly (causing Molly to giggle and swat at him playfully).

“In the middle of dinner?” Q snarled quietly so only Bond could hear him.

“Yes, in the middle of dinner. Mycroft was so very helpful.”

The tone alone was enough to indicate that his eldest brother had been far more liberal with the details than he would have liked. He made a mental note that he and Sherlock were long overdue for a collaborative plot against their joint enemy. In the meantime, however, he had a much bigger problem to tend to.

“Molly, would you excuse us for a moment?” he said with feigned sincerity. “Just some quick work stuff I was told to discuss with him the minute he returned.”

She huffed dramatically, but answered, “Fine. I should go powder my nose anyway.”

Both men maintained façade smiles as she walked away, but the second she turned the corner Q dropped into a scowl while one of James’s eyebrow raised into an inquisitive arch. It was hard to read whether or not the agent was genuinely curious about the whole situation or systematically planning out where he would hide the separate parts of his quartermaster’s body.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here, Bond?” Q snapped. 

The older man angled his other eyebrow.

“I was about to ask you that same question, Q. Did I not make myself clear when I said that my cousin was not to be known to anyone?”

“I met her through my brother, you twat. She works with Sherlock,” he retorted. “We’ve been going out long before… Siberia.”

Bond chuckled humorlessly.

“So you slept with my cousin, and then you slept with me. Does she know that yet?”

Looking over his shoulder to make sure Molly wasn’t back yet, he leaned in and hushed his voice just to be careful.

“No. Especially after everything she’s been through there is no way she would ever give me a second chance if she found out. I am begging you, keep this between us.”

“So you not only cheated on her, you’re also lying to her,” Bond mused, glancing down at his watch. “You know I could kill you a hundred different ways and MI6 would still think it was an accident?”

“Damn it, James, you know it isn’t fair to pin all the blame on me,” Q hissed with increasing desperateness. Molly would be back any second now. “Look, we weren’t in any serious commitment then, but I want to be now. Please, just don’t tell her anything.”

In one swift motion, Bond had Q by the tie and pulled him in so closely that he could feel his breath on his face. The tightened pressure on his throat made it harder to catch any air, but he was too afraid that 007 might break his neck if he tried to put any distance between them. More uncomfortable than that, though, was the fact that the last time they had been so close was when Bond had seduced him. He shivered just at the thought and tried to kick it into a back corner of his mind. Unfortunately, it didn’t work, and he had to fight just to keep his breath from hitching and his eyelids from fluttering. Bond smirked at the sight of his reaction.

“You need to make up your mind, Quartermaster. I’m not going to be the one to break her heart, but I’ll hazard that you have so much rope it’s only a matter of time before you hang yourself,” he cautioned, shoving Q back into his seat. “God help you if Molly gets tangled too.”

The instant change in Bond’s posture indicated that Molly was on her way back Q hastily tried to adjust his collar and tie so that nothing looked out of place. Thankfully, Molly was so delighted at the sight of her cousin that she didn’t even seem to notice. So much for a nice night out. 

“I should go,” Bond said much to Q’s relief, kissing Molly on the cheek.

Just before he started walking away he whispered in Q’s ear, “Nothing changes. Your Kimber is waiting.”

Q felt his entire face drain of color. That was so far from fair he wanted to drive his fork into the agent’s back as he made his way out the door. When training for MI6, even as a tech, he had to go through a variety of psychological tests to make sure he could think clearly and act rationally under pressure. At one point they locked in a dark box with ten minutes worth of air and half an hour’s work worth of encryptions to decode all while viruses slammed the network every five seconds. He would have preferred that to the sick game Bond was playing now. ‘Don’t hurt my sweet little cousin, but by the way, try resisting me too because I want to see you trip.’ The bigger question was even harder, though. Was he doing all this out of revenge for Molly? A brotherly overprotection complex? Or was there some truth to the words ‘you are not a conquest’? Q would rather he was back in the box. 

“What’s wrong?” Molly asked, entwining her fingers in his.

“Just a lot of things I need to deal with on Monday, but nothing that needs worrying about now. Do you still want dessert?”

She made some cute quip about being boyfriend and girlfriend now, something about ice cream, and something else along those lines that under any other circumstance would have made his heart skip a beat and lose track of time completely, but Q’s thoughts were still on Bond. Just when he was hoping things would stop being complicated, they became incredibly more so.


End file.
